Chapter 16: How To Live A Little
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"What?" I said, glancing at him, my cheeks as red as a damn tomato.
"Or guys," he added quickly, raising a hand like he was preempting an argument I hadn’t even started yet. "I’m not picky. Just want grandkids or a good love story. I’ll take either."
"Dad! I’m not gay..." I groaned, rubbing my face. "No. There’s absolutely no one. Nothing. It’s a complete and total void out there."
He raised an eyebrow. "None at all?"
"I’m too busy for that anyway," I replied, a bit too quickly, realizing it immediately but unable to take it back. "Classes, work, more work, and then some extra work just in case the first two jobs decide to bail on me. My social calendar is booked solid."
He laughed, shaking his head slowly, and for a moment, he just looked at me in that way that I could never quite explain, a mix of fondness, sadness, and pride that made me want to reassure him and also look away.
"I know you’re working hard," he said, his tone softening a bit, the teasing receding to reveal something more genuine. "But you’ve got to live a little too. You’re young, Ollie. You’re allowed to enjoy things."
"I enjoy things," I said, with slightly more defensiveness than the situation warranted.
He tilted his head. "Name one."
I paused, thinking about it.
"...Sleep," I finally said.
He burst into laughter, the kind that made his shoulders shake, and for a fleeting moment, despite the fluorescent lights and the beeping machines and the billing receipt neatly tucked in my bag, I felt genuinely happy.
"That doesn’t count!" he managed.
"It absolutely counts," I insisted. "Sleep is a luxury that I don’t get enough of. That makes it something I enjoy when I finally do. It qualifies."
"Then you need better hobbies," he shot back, still grinning.
"I’ll add it to the list," I replied. "Right after financial stability and eating more vegetables."
He shook his head, settling back with the satisfaction of someone who’d gotten what they wanted from a conversation.
"Lord help whoever ends up with you," he said fondly.
"Truly," I agreed.
I smiled despite myself, leaning back in the chair as I watched him, the easy warmth between us settling like something solid. For a while, the moment stayed just like that, light, simple, and safe in a way I wanted to hold onto for longer.
Until it didn’t.
He noticed, of course.
He always did...had this knack for seeing through whatever version of fine I was trying to portray, pinpointing the real emotions underneath with the accuracy of someone deeply attuned to another’s heart.
"You look tired, son," he said quietly after a moment, observing me with a gaze that seemed to unravel me. Not the kind of tired he joked about before. The other kind. "Everything okay at the dorms?"
The question landed softly, like real questions always did. I forced a small laugh, leaning back in the chair as if it were nothing, like his question hadn’t struck a chord.
"Same old chaos," I replied easily. "Nothing I can’t manage. You know how it is."
He studied me for a second longer than I’d have liked, in that way of his where he said nothing but still conveyed everything. The silence did all the talking.
Then, slowly, he nodded.
"Good," he said, though I could see in his expression that he didn’t fully buy it, filing away his thoughts for later.
I looked away for a moment, adjusting the sleeve of my hoodie as I took a quiet breath, nudging the moment past before it could deepen into something more than either of us could handle right then.
He reached for me, his hand finding mine, warm and steady despite everything that had taken a toll on him over the months, things we rarely addressed directly.
"Listen to me," he said, his voice firm enough to draw my full attention, the kind of firmness that demanded focus. "I know it’s been hard since I got sick. I know you’ve been carrying more than you’re supposed to."
My throat tightened. I maintained a neutral expression.
"But you’re doing it," he continued, holding my gaze. "You’re showing up. You’re working harder than anyone should have to at your age. And I’m proud of you, Oliver. So unbelievably proud it barely fits in my chest."
I swallowed, my vision blurring slightly as I nodded, since nodding was within my ability without my voice breaking.
"We’re going to be okay," he added, squeezing my hand gently.
I nodded again, unable to trust my voice enough to add anything beyond that. Some things were better left unsaid.The moment lingered, heavy and real in a way that few things ever were.
Then, just like that, he smiled again, the full smile, the one I’d known my whole life.
"Now go live a little," he said, lightening the atmosphere deliberately, as if he wanted to lift us both. "Find a nice girlfriend who can cook."
I laughed a bit, the sound coming out rough, and slowly stood, stretching as I gathered my things.
"I’ll keep that in mind," I said.
"Do that," he replied, already settling back against his pillows as if he had concluded the matter. "And report back."
I made sure everything was in its place before I moved toward the door, pausing for just a moment at the threshold to look back at him. He was still watching me, still smiling, the TV murmuring softly behind him, and the light in the room doing something kind to everything it touched.
Like everything was fine, like it would stay that way.
I held that image for exactly one second, then stepped out into the hall, the door closing quietly behind me as the hospital fell back into its usual chill and impersonal atmosphere, now that he wasn’t there to warm it.
And then, my phone buzzed. I pulled it out on instinct, the notification popping up before I was ready for it.
Another billing reminder.
Of course. Because timing had never been my strong suit.
𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖
I stared at it for a moment, leaning against the wall as the weight of it settled more heavily without his presence to soften it, the reality of it sinking in.
Then I exhaled slowly, a deliberate breath, straightened up, slipped my phone back into my pocket, and pushed myself forward.
"Yeah," I muttered quietly to myself, steadying my resolve even if I was talking to no one in particular. "We’re going to be okay."
Because we had to be, there really wasn’t any other choice, and I never was good at sitting with problems I couldn’t solve, so I did what I always did.
I kept moving.
With that thought firmly in place, worn in like a well-repeated mantra, I stepped out into the evening, bracing myself for whatever came next.